


Darkened Pool

by twilightstarr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Episode: s01e03 The Great Game, M/M, moment killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstarr/pseuds/twilightstarr
Summary: What I like to think happened at the end of The Great Game





	

“Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?” asked Moriarty, showing not the slightest unease at the gun Sherlock aimed at his head. 

“Oh, let me guess: I get killed,” replied Sherlock with disinterest. 

“Kill you? No, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway some day. I don't wanna rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special. No no no no no,” Moriarty shook his head. “If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you.” 

“I have been reliably informed that I don't have one.” 

“But we both know that’s not quite true.” 

Sherlock blinked. 

Moriarty smirked, making it clear he'd caught the reaction while further sparking irritation in his nemesis. “Well, I’d better be off. So nice to have had a proper chat.” 

“What if I was to shoot you now, right now?” asked Sherlock with a twitch of the gun as he considered the idea. 

“Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face,” Moriarty paused to demonstrate, “cause I’d be surprised Sherlock--really I would--and just a teensy bit… disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long. Ciao, Sherlock Holmes.” 

Sherlock’s aim followed Moriarty as he left. “Catch… You… later.” 

“No you won't,” Moriarty sang before exiting. 

When the the door closed behind him, Sherlock dropped the gun and tore off John’s jacket and the bomb attached to it. “All right? Are you all right?” he demanded. 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine. Sherlock. Sh-Sherlock!” John protested, flustered. 

Sherlock paid his awkwardness no heed as he pulled the jacket off John’s arms and chucked it away from them with disdain. 

“Oh Christ!” gasped John. Fine as he thought he was a moment ago, adrenaline subsiding, a moment of faintness almost knocked him over. He found a wall to steady himself upon and sit against. 

When he looked up, Sherlock was pacing furiously, holding the gun again and handling it carelessly. 

“Are you OK?” John asked. 

“Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine, fine.” He turned once more, than stammered, brandishing the gun in even more flagrant misuse, “That, er... thing that you, er, that you did--that, um... you offered to do--that was, um… good,” wondering why he was suddenly such an idiot that he couldn't talk properly. 

“I'm glad no one saw that,” said John. 

“Hm?” Sherlock asked, not sure what he meant by ‘that’. 

“You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk.” 

Sherlock offered in reply only one of his intense, dissecting stares, kneeling down to John’s level. Rewinding the scene, it was clear that this out-of-context idea had occurred to John as soon as Sherlock had grabbed his jacket. This had made him uncomfortable, and yet now he wanted to point the situation out. Sherlock hesitated for a second, but then resolved to trust his deduction and leaned forward. 

Sherlock was almost close enough for John to believe he was actually going to kiss him and that he was actually going to let him when they spotted the red lights focused on each other. 

“Sorry boys! I'm so changeable!” 

Sherlock hastily jumped away and stood as Moriarty burst back into the room. 

“It is a weakness with me, but--oh, am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Sherlock and John answered in unison. 

“You’re sure? Cause I thought I saw some kind of moment going on there. Maybe if you asked nicely I'd give you another minute to--” 

“Certain.” 

“Positive.” 

For some time, neither of them mentioned what had almost occurred.


End file.
